Chapter 8 #2
“You feel so good. So fucking tight.” She moans, her body responds to mine, her walls clench around me as I pound into her. I am relentless, my hands hold her hips steady as I drive into her, my breath becomes ragged gasps.
“Logan—”
I command, my thrusts slow as I pull her closer, my lips capture hers in a bruising kiss.
“Come with me, Julia. Come for me.”
My words send her over the edge, her body shatters around me, I muffle her cries with my lips. I follow, my release is powerful and intense.
“Logan.”
For a long moment, we stay like this, our bodies still joined, our breaths slowly return to normal. I pull out and lay beside her, my arm wraps around her waist, pulls her close.
“You’re safe. Always.”
She snuggles into my embrace, her hand resting on my chest. I think she feels the steady beat of my heart.
”Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“We’re not done.”
She looks up at me, her eyes meet mine, a mix of fear and anticipation in her gaze. I begin, my hands and mouth map every inch of her body, my touch both gentle and demanding, my words a mix of encouragement and command.
I push her boundaries, test her limits, but always with a tenderness that belies my rough exterior.
The night goes on, as our passion burns brighter. I’m not just offering her pleasure —I am offering her a sanctuary, a place where she can be vulnerable, where she can let go of her fears and trust me completely.
I study her, searching for something—anything—that will give me the missing pieces of this puzzle. But before I can push further, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Frowning, I get up to get it out of my clothes bundled on the glance at the screen. It’s Frank.
“Yeah?” I answer, my voice still rough.
“Boss, we have a problem.”
I stiffen. “What kind of problem?”
“Suspect sighting.” Frank’s voice is clipped. “Near Julia’s house.”
I go ice cold. “Who?”
“We’re not sure,” he admits. “But the description? Matches someone you’re not gonna like.”
My grip on the phone tightens.
Mac.
I look at Julia. She watches me, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression caught between curiosity and dread.
“What is it?” she asks.
I hesitate for half a second, then make my decision.
“You’re staying here,” I tell her firmly.
Her eyes widen. “What? No. If someone—”
I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head. “No arguments. Stay with Lily. Lock the doors. I’ll handle this.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but the look on my face must convince her otherwise because she snaps her lips shut, nodding once.
I step closer, lowering my voice. “I’ll be back soon.”
Something flickers in her eyes —something hesitant, something vulnerable. “Logan...”
I wait.
She hesitates, then sighs. “Just... be careful.”
I nod. “Always.”
Then I grab my gun, shove my phone in my pocket, and head for the door.
Because if Mac is anywhere near Julia’s home, it means he’s getting too damn close.
And I’m about to make sure that never happens again.I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as I tear through the streets of Seaside Bluff.
The town is eerily quiet this late at night, the ocean’s distant roar the only sound cutting through the darkness.
But my pulse is pounding, my body wired, locked in that cold, calculated mindset I learned in the military.
The one that tells me to expect the worst and eliminate the threat before it has a chance to strike.
Frank’s voice echoes in my head. Suspect sighting near Julia’s house.
If it’s Mac, then we’re already out of time.
I hit the brakes hard as I turn onto Julia’s street, my headlights slicing through the shadows. The air is thick with the weight of something unseen.
A gut feeling, a whisper of danger that makes every instinct in me go on high alert.
I kill the engine, stepping out silently, my boots crunching against the gravel. My hand finds the grip of my gun automatically, my senses tuning in to every noise, every movement.
The house is dark, save for a faint glow through the curtains—probably from a nightlight inside.
I move with practiced stealth, rounding the side of the house. The salty breeze carries the scent of damp earth and ocean air, but there’s something else too—cigarette smoke.
I'm tense because I know someone’s been here. Recently.
Then I see it.
A footprint, slightly smudged but fresh, near the base of the porch. Too large to be Julia’s.
I scan the area, searching for movement, my body thrumming with anticipation. But the street is empty, the surrounding houses dark. Whoever was here is either gone or watching from the shadows.
A deep, slow breath. Think, Carter.
If it was Mac, what was he doing? Scouting? Sending a message?
Or was he just waiting for the right moment?
A rustling sound makes me snap my gun up, ready, aimed toward the bushes lining the fence.
Nothing.
The wind, maybe. Or something more.
I don’t like this.
I take another slow step, eyes sweeping the yard, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out without looking away from the house.
Frank.
“What do you got?” I mutter.
“No visuals, but we got a witness who swears she saw someone hanging around earlier tonight.” Frank’s voice is taut. “Tall guy, dark jacket, had a cigarette. Sound familiar?”
Rage coils in my gut. Yeah. Sounds a hell of a lot like Mac.
“I just swept the area myself; I found a footprint, it needs to get processed, but whoever left it is long gone. Get the witness report to me first thing.”
“You got it, boss.”
I clench my jaw, staring at Julia’s house, I need answers.